


A Tisket, A Tasket

by WrecklessImagine



Category: Criminal Minds
Genre: Angst, F/M, Fluff, Love, PTSD, Romance, Self-Harm, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-15
Updated: 2016-01-23
Packaged: 2018-05-06 22:29:04
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 12
Words: 14,503
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5433131
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WrecklessImagine/pseuds/WrecklessImagine
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>What unfolds when the reader trades herself for Emily Prentiss during an invasion of the BAU office?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Me For Her

Everyone draws their guns as he busts thru the doors. Morgan reaches out for Prentiss, but he already has her in his grasp.

“And you thought I wouldn’t get close,” the unsub says, with his gun to her head. “You really do have a way of underestimating me.”

As a smile creeps across his face, you slowly lower your gun and put up your hands.

“Y/N, what are you doing?” Spencer harshly whispers to you.

“What if I offered you a trade?” you asked the unsub.

His brow furrows, “I’m listening.”

“What we do know is that Prentiss isn’t your type. All of your targets have always had different features. Prentiss, she’s plain. Boring. Brown everything. Porcelain skin. She has boring written all over her body.”

Prentiss eyes go wide as she tries to keep the unsub from choking her, and Spencer starts shaking his head.

“Y/N, no. I know what you’re doing. Stop it.”

You turn to Spencer with concern on your face. “I’m sorry,” you say to him, as you take off your shirt.

As it falls to the ground, and everyone takes in your numerous scars from your past, you spin slowly for the unsub. “You have targeted women with odd eye colors, freakishly dyed hair, 11 fingers, 11 toes, amputees, cleft lip palates…but there is one that you have yet to capture. That you have yet to even fathom.”

As the unsub’s eyes glitter with amazement, you say, “You have yet to find a woman with scars. True scars. Scars that tell stories, that detract from beauty…that mar her to the core.”

As Spencer’s eyes glisten with tears, you continue. “We will trade. Prentiss and I will walk equally in opposite directions, and when she gets to Morgan, you can take me. I won’t even put up a fight…or maybe I will, if that’s what you like.”

“Agreed,” growls the unsub, and as Spencer’s jaw unhinges to the floor, Prentiss and you start walking. As Prentiss passes by you, she slips her knife into the back of your pants. Morgan reaches out for Prentiss and the unsub wraps his hands in your hair, yanking you towards the exit. Yelping out in pain, Spencer lunges to go after you, only for Hotch to wrap his arms around him to stop him.

“Y/N! No! Stop! Y-yo-..You can take me! You can have me! Please!!” he yells after you.

Prentiss walks over to Garcia with tears in her eyes and says, “Traffic cameras. ATM cameras. All the cameras. Pull them up. Figure out where they are going.”

And as tears start to pour down Spencer’s cheeks, Morgan comes up to him and puts his hands on his shoulders.

“We will find her Spencer. Alive. We will. I swear it.”


	2. Yours or Mine?

“Garcia,” Spencer busts into her tech room. “Anything. Give me anything. A blurry picture, a license plate…something!”

“I have their movements charted until this spot. It looks like they got a flat,” Garcia points to the screen, “and then there’s nothing. The car doesn’t show up on the cameras after that.”

“Then that’s where we start.” Spencer bolts out the door to go tell Hotch.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

You awaken in a room with your arms chained above your head. Not being able to see anything in front of you, you pull yourself up to your hands so you can wipe the gunk from your eyes.

“Hello, beautiful,” his voice growls from the corner.

As the unsub switches the lights on, you realize there’s a camera in the corner.

“How beautiful,” he runs a finger along your scars.

Shuddering at his touch, you nail him with your knee. Doubling over, he comes back up with a smile as he cracks his hand against your cheek.

“Save your strength. You’re gonna need it.”

And as he cuts off the light and walks out of the room, all that’s left is you, your thoughts, and the red light of the camera.

“Spencer,” you whisper. “Help me.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

As the team exits their vehicles at your last known location, Spencer calls Garcia.

“Any hits?” he asks. Spencer had Garcia look for any abandoned structures within a 10 mile radius.

“Out of the 11 abandoned structures, 7 are under lease, and only 1 has any ties to our unsub.”

“Send me the address,” Spencer says before he hangs up.

“Hotch! I got her!” Spencer yells as his phone dings with a message.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The unsub busts into the room, releases the tension on your chains, and watches as you plummet to the floor.

“Get up!” he growls as he yanks your chains. You yelp in pain as you stumble out the door and into the hallway. Off in the distance, you hear the scuttling of feet, and before you can identify whose footsteps are at work, the unsub shoves you into a closet.

You hear Hotch yell, “We have you surrounded. You have nowhere else to go.”

“Where is she!?” Morgan yells.

The unsub chuckles, and you hear Spencer shriek.

“Where the hell is she!?”

“Oh…her scars. They are much softer than you would imagine, and she has great power in her legs…”

You shove your shoulder up against the door and tumble into the hallway. The unsub spins around to see you barreling down the hallway at him. You lunge, wrapping your chains around his neck, and squeeze them as hard as you can.

“Y/N!!” Spencer yells as he runs for you. Prentiss dashes behind you to pull you off, and Morgan cuffs the unsub and pulls him to his feet.

You stumble back onto Prentiss as Spencer helps you steady your stance. With tears in his eyes, he brushes his fingers lightly across your cheek. You wince as you hear the unsub call after you.

“Have you shown him your thighs?? Or is that our little secret!?”

With tears springing to your eyes, you bury your face in Spencer’s chest. Wrapping you in his warm embrace, Spencer leans down and kisses the top of your head.

“Your place or mine?” he whispers into your hair.


	3. Help Me

Stumbling into Spencer’s apartment, he catches you around the waist.

“Slow down,” he reiterates again. “It’s been a long night. You’re safe here,” he coos, tossing your go-bag down onto the floor. You didn’t want to go back to your apartment, concerned that if you did, that you would never leave.

“How many outfits do you keep in your bag?”

Off in your own world, he takes your wrist lightly.

Spinning around, grabbing his arm, and pinning him to the wall, he starts screaming.

“Y/N! Y/N! It’s me, Spencer! Y/N!!”

Coming back to reality, you quickly let go of Spencer, gasping as your hands start shaking.

“Oh…oh my god, I-” your ragged breaths cut you off.

“Y/N…” Spencer reaches out for you, but you stumble away. “No, please don’t,” you choke out, feeling dirty and disgusted.

Hearing Spencer swallow hard, he slowly makes his way towards you. “Please…don’t push me away…”

As he slowly reaches his hand out to touch your arm, you flinch, but don’t shy away. As he sighs, you lay your head on his forearm, soaking up his warmth.

“I keep 5 outfits in my bag,” you mumble.

“Alright, then 10 days here.”

Furrowing your brow, you look up at him as he sits down beside one. “10 days, laundry once.”

Nodding your head slowly, you turn your gaze back to the dark green wall in front of you. You enjoy how dark his apartment is…how shrouding the darkness can be. It made you feel more comfortable.

“Do you want a shower? Or some coffee? Or some coffee in a shower? Or maybe a bath?”

Chuckling lightly, you put your hand on Spencer’s knee, willing him to stop talking.

“W-what’s…on your legs?” Spencer whispers.

Locking your jaw, you shoot up from the couch. “A warm shower would be nice. I can’t image how much I must smell.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Peeling off the clothes you have on, you throw them in the trash can. You wanted nothing to do with them.

Not after this whole debacle.

As you turn the shower knobs to get the correct temperature of water, you hear a light knock at the door.

“Please don’t be mad…but I went thru your bag, and your pajamas are sitting on the bed. And you can borrow one of my robes if you’d like.”

Shaking your head lightly and smiling, you say, “I hope you didn’t smell my underwear, Reid.”

And after a slight pause, he says, “While a lot of men are driven by nasal stimulation, that is not how I am, so no, I did not.”

“And what does drive the Doctor, hmm?” you playfully threw back. You could imagine his cheeks flushing now.

“Oral stimulation.”

Pausing halfway into the shower, you turn towards the door.

“What!?” you shriek, but all Spencer gives you is a fading laugh.

Stepping into the shower, you let the warm water drip over every crevice. You wanted to feel clean again…to feel whole again…

To feel normal again.

You would never have taken back what you did for Prentiss. After all, she had become a very good friend of yours…but you knew that the way you looked at it, Spencer would be angry.

Because you didn’t see it as saving a friend’s life.

You saw it as trading one life for another life that was more valuable.

Stepping out the shower, you reach out and wipe off the foggy mirror, and as you take in all of your cuts and bruises, you find your hand drifting to the outside of your thigh.

You had never told anyone about those scars, because those scars weren’t from a job, or a mission, or an altercation.

They were just…a reminder.

A constant reminder of a place that you had been…

And a place in which you never wanted to return.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Stepping out of Spencer’s room, wrapped in his robe and shielded by your pajamas, you take a strong whiff of the coffee-scented room.

“Extra dark,” he says, turning around with a mug in his hand.

Sliding the sugar and creamer in your direction, you give him a slight smile as you fix your coffee up just the way you like, three spoonfuls of creamer and 2 sugars.

Bringing the dark nectar up to your lips, you close your eyes and moan. You have always loved coffee, but none more-so than in this very moment.

Swallowing hard and opening your eyes, you see that Spencer has moved towards you, leaning up against the same side of the counter as you.

“Talk to me,” he pleads, setting his coffee mug down.

Sighing, you take one more long sip and set the mug down beside his.

“You want to know what’s on my legs?”

As Spencer nods, you continue, “at one point in my life I was not proud of who I was. I was just beginning my journey of badassery, and I was…scared. And alone. And angry.”

As Spencer nods, his eyes intent on you, you continue, “And I didn’t know how to cope. I tried talking, but I talked to the wrong person and that got me 6 months of mandatory therapy, so I clammed up. I tried drinking, but honest-to-god, liquor is disgusting, and unless it’s on an empty stomach, wine doesn’t do the job…and the only other thing worse than not being able to cope is not being able to cope and needing food.”

Hearing Spencer chuckle lightly made you feel at ease. “So, I looked for other ways. I took every assignment I could get, volunteered for the rest, and filled my time with books of every sentiment and trained as much as my body could withstand.”

“You are in incredible shape,” Spencer says.

Blushing, you look down and stifle a giggle. “Anyway,” you say, looking back up at him. “I was filing some paperwork and got a paper cut. Nothing rough, just a little sting. But for that split second…that beautiful, ethereal second…that was the only pain I felt. And, it was pain I could tolerate.”

As Spencer’s features drop, you dip your head and continue, “So, I started self-harming. Small knicks at first, nothing that couple of days couldn’t clear up, and the only place that had never been revealed for any job I had done up until that point-”

“Was your thighs,” Spencer said, finishing your sentence.

“Exactly,” you say, feeling tears burn the back of your eyes.

“And soon it grew, and compounded, and it went from whenever the emotional pain was unbearable to whenever I just didn’t react well to something, and before I knew it my upper thighs were riddled with scars, some even requiring stitches that I had to administer myself in order to not draw suspicion amongst my colleagues.

Watching as your tears drip onto his linoleum kitchen floor, Spencer wraps his arms around you.

“Do you still-?”

“No,” you say, cutting him off and pulling back. “Not in many years.”

Looking him in his eyes, you add, “I swear.”

As he looks you up and down, not sure where to proceed, he picks up both of your coffee mugs and ventures back to the couch.

Sitting down next to him, you take your coffee cup and sit in silence.

Uncomfortable, thick silence.

As your hands start to shake from the tension, you down the rest of your coffee. Looking over at Spencer, you catch him staring at your leg.

Without saying a word, you set your cup down and stand up, pushing your robe back and reaching for the top of your pant elastic.

“No, no, you don’t-” but you hold your hand up, cutting him off.

“I don’t want the only man that has ever seen the scars to be… _him_ ,” you hiss.

Pulling down your pant leg, you expose a slew of scars, some barely visible, some marked with puncture scars to the side…denoting stitching…and others are deep, with raised scar tissue…indicating they should have been stitched, but weren’t.

As tears start to run down Spencer’s face, he reaches out and lightly touches the scars, running his fingers back and forth.

“W-what…” Spencer’s breath caught in his throat. “What did the unsub do to these scars?”

Furrowing your brow, you recall the moment he found them, when he had yanked down your pants to view your form, and had caught sight of your scars.

 _“I see you have some dirty secrets,”_ he had hissed.

_“I love the taste of dirty…”_

Shaking your head, tears spring to your eyes again.

“He…he uh…he licked them,” you stammer.

As Spencer’s gaze whips up to yours, you turn your head away, not wanting to look at him.

And before you could react, you feel Spencer’s lips press up against your scars…the warmth burrowing into the deep tissues of your legs.

Sighing raggedly, Spencer places his hands on your hips to root you in place, slathering kiss after kiss over every scar on your self-battered leg. Breathing raggedly and heavily, you find yourself overcome with the warmth that his lips provide, and when you feel him pull back for the last time, you drop to your knees and wrap your arms around him.

And as Spencer buries his face in the crook of your neck, your body trembles with fear and relief.

“Help me,” you whisper to him. “Help me to do this right.”


	4. Skewed Perceptions

“Thank you, Hotch.”

As Spencer hangs up the phone, you still sitting on the floor with your pants down around your ankles, Spencer walks back over and gets on the floor with you, sliding your pants off and casting them to the side.

“We have 2 weeks, and then from there we will take it day by day. Hotch says not to come back until you’re ready, and if they need me they can just call.”

Nodding slowly, you realize that your body is starting to shake.

“Is-um…is it cold in here?” you ask quietly.

As Spencer runs over to look at the thermostat, he trots back over and says, “Is 70 degrees chilly for you?”

Shaking your head no, you sigh and pick yourself up off of the floor, your eyes meandering as you eye your go-bag on the floor.

“Mind if I-?” you ask, pointing to your bag.

“Oh, no…sure, not a problem,” Spencer stammers, running to go get your bag as he sets it on the couch.

“I’ll just, um…be in here,” he says, pointing to his bedroom.

Watching him walk in and shut his door, you realize that you were already in your pajamas.

Holding your head in your hands, you take your shirt and bra off, trading one set of pajamas for a nightgown.

Stuffing the outfit into your bag, you smooth the cotton nightgown out, feeling foolish after you look down and realize how low-cut the gown it.

“Y/N? It’s everything al-”

Hearing him throw open the door, you look at him with widened eyes as he takes in your form.

You don’t wear clothes that flatter your appearance to work, but a woman needed to feel beautiful at some point in time.

No matter how damaged they were.

You just didn’t take into account the fact that someone might see you in these.

“I just…um…w-wow…” Spencer stammers, his eyes looking you up and down as you let out the breath you realize you are holding.

“Um…yeah, I just…the pants were constricting a bit and this is more flowy and it just…um…so, where are the blankets for the couch?” you ask, pointing to the couch as your face grows red.

As Spencer’s gaze slowly crawls over to the couch, he comes back to reality, giving his head a bit of a shake.

“Oh no. You’re in the bed. I’m on the couch,” he states.

“No,” you say sternly, taking a step towards him. “You have opened your home to me. I’m not kicking you out of your bed as well.”

“Well you’re not sleeping on the couch,” Spencer demands, taking a step closer to you.

Clenching your jaw, you blurt out the one thing you’ve been wanting to say since he kissed your scars.

“It’s been years,” you say, your lips puckering as your eyes widen.

Watching Spencer cock his head, you find yourself continuing despite your brain yelling at you to shut up. “Since a man has put his lips on me. It’s um…it’s been a while…”

“I hope I uh…” Spencer stammers.

“Oh! No, not at all,” you wave your hands in the air, realizing that Spencer is slowly approaching you. “I just…um…”

Finding yourself at a loss for words, your butt hits the back of the couch as Spencer takes one more step towards you, his body heat radiating out towards you.

“Spencer,” you whisper, holding out your hand as you settle it on his chest.

It was a lot stronger than you had anticipated.

“I know,” he says, his voice low as he casts his gaze down to your hand.

“I know,” he says again, barely above a whisper as he takes your hand off of his chest and holds it within his.

“And whenever you’re ready,” he breathes, closing the distance between you two and wrapping his arms around you steadily, “Let me know.”

Furrowing your brow as a tear escapes the hood of your eye, you hold him closer to you as his grip tightens around your body.

“Spencer, I-”

“Sssshhhhh…” he coos, rubbing your back with his steady hands as your body becomes wracked with sobs.

“It’s alright,” he whispers, setting his chin on top of your head as he picks you up and takes you in to his room.

“Please don’t sleep on the couch,” you sob, feeling him lay you down on the bed.

“I’m not planning on it,” he whispers, slowly laying down next to you as he situates you both underneath the covers.

“W-what if I have nightmares? You won’t sleep-”

Putting his finger to your lips, your eyes plead with him as he lifts his gaze up to your face.

“You will have them. No doubt. But you won’t do them alone.”

Speechlessness finally overcoming your body, you hunker down into the bed as you pull the covers up to your ear.

“And Y/N?” Spencer speaks out from the darkness just as your eyes begin to droop.

“Hmmm?” you ask sleepily.

“Your life is just as important as Emily’s. Don’t ever get that skewed.”


	5. One By One

To yours, and Spencer’s, surprise, the first couple of evenings went smoothly. Sure, you cried in the evenings during your showers, and…luckily for you…Spencer pretended that he didn’t see your puffy red eyes and hear your stuffy-nosed voice after every one.

And then night three came around.

You tossed and turned, trying to get comfortable with Spencer out and about. You had urged him to go out with J.J. and Garcia. You knew that he wanted to see Henry, and the girls would most certainly want and update, and you had to practically kick him out of his own door to get him to go.

You told him that you would be alright.

You told him that you wouldn’t leave.

And yet you found yourself wrapped in your house robe, tramping around in your slippers, your sopping wet hair blowing in the wind as you walk down the sidewalk at 11 pm, shaking from the first of many nightmares that would come in your future.

You were shivering, your arms crossed across your chest, as you slowly made your way into the first grocery store you found, heading for the wine section and picking up a box of wine by it’s indented handle.

You wanted to bathe your mind in alcohol.

As the grocer stares at you with a furrowed brow, he rings you up and holds out his hand for your ID.

Checking it back and forth, clearing his throat before handing it back, you hand him your card without him even rattling off how much it was.

Thanking him lowly as you grab it and walk out, you turn to walk down the street back to Spencer’s apartment as you hear a voice scream out from the darkness.

“Y/N!”

Shit.

“Y/N!” you hear again.

Hustling down the sidewalk, the misting rain slowly turning into a torrential downpour, Spencer’s worried face and haphazardly-stanced body comes careening around the corner, colliding with you as you stumble backwards, landing in a deep puddle of water.

“Oh my god, Y/N!” he exclaims, reaching out for you and helping you to your feet before swiftly grabbing your groceries.

“You’re gonna get sick,” he says, throwing his jacket around your soaking wet shoulders as he hustles you back in to his apartment building.

Shivering as tears run down your face, you shake your head and look up at him.

“I wasn’t ok,” you say shakily, your head vigorously shaking back and forth.

“What happened?” Spencer asks, cupping your face in his hands as he leans down to your level, “Talk to me.”

Closing your eyes as you start to sob, he pulls you in for a hug just as the elevator doors ding open.

“Let’s go get you warmed up,” he murmurs, leading you in to the elevator as the doors quickly shut.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

After stepping out of yet another warm shower, your body finally stilling from the chill cascading through your bones, you emerge with a new set of pajamas on as you are met with a dried-off Spencer sitting on the couch with two coffee mugs sitting in front of him.

Shuffling over to him, the comforter of his bed pulled tightly around your body, you plop down and sigh, slowly looking over at him with remorse all over your face.

“Spencer, I’m so sorry,” you mumble.

“It’s alright,” he says, handing you a coffee mug full of your boxed wine, “I was just worried.”

“I promised you that I would be alright…that I wouldn’t leave…and I failed you on both ends,” you say, fresh tears cresting the folds of your tired eyes as he scoots closer, loosening the blanket around you as he slides underneath.

“I knew that you weren’t going to be alright,” he says, wrapping his arm around your shoulders as he takes a sip of his coffee-mug wine.

Furrowing your brow, you look up at him with the mug to your lips.

“Then why did you leave?” you ask.

“Because you needed proof that you weren’t alright, so that you would accept my help from now on when I offer.”

Touche.

“Well played, good sir,” you say in a playful voice, your lips taking a long sip from your mug before letting go of a light chuckle.

“I’ve missed that smile,” he says, looking at you as he takes another sip.

Sighing into your mug, you place it in your lap as you lay your head back on to the couch.

“How long does this hurt?” you choke out, the tricky tears pouring lightly down the sides of your temples, dripping into your hair.

“Everyone is different,” Spencer says, his hand lightly swiping the side of your face, drying your tears as the continue to fall, “But please understand, you will not do this alone.”

“I closed my eyes and I-”

Pausing to take a deep, ragged breath, Spencer’s gaze changes from playful to worried as he urges you to continue by lightly running his thumb up and down your neck as he massages it lightly with his free hand.

“I-I-I…I saw his face. How…how maniacal a-…a-a-and pleased he looked…you know, when he…he found my scars.”

Spencer’s gaze follows your hand as it involuntarily migrates to your leg, rubbing your thigh through the comforter as your mind wanders.

“He said that we-”

Feeling your body beginning to shake, Spencer takes your mug from you and sits the down onto the table, scooting close to you and wrapping his arms around you underneath the blanket.

“He said that we were the same,” you whisper, your jaw quivering as a light sob escapes from your lips.

Feeling him rest his forehead against your temple, you slowly turn your head, nuzzling in to him as he brings his hand to cup your face.

“It’s just simply not true,” he says, barely above a whisper.

“How do you know?” you ask, opening your eyes as more tears race down your face, attempting to beat one another to your neck.

“Because you don’t kidnap and torture people to deal with your pain,” Spencer says matter-of-factly, his gaze meeting your misty ones as a defeated look comes across your face.

“Well, I can’t argue with your logic,” you say, leaning back onto the couch and sighing heavily.

“Usually no one can,” Spencer jokes, a light grin crossing his cheeks as you shake your head back and forth, a smile slowly growing on your face.

“I can’t stay here the entire time. At some point in time I have to deal with this on my own,” you say, your face dropping back down as you cock your head towards him.

“Who says?” he asks, his brow furrowing as you stare at the ceiling.

“Because I can’t always depend on you to be there every time there’s a nightmare. Or a crying spell. Or a depressive state,” you say breathlessly, your eyes widening.

“Let’s just take this one day at a time,” he says lowly, grabbing you up under your arms and pulling you towards him, your back resting between him and the couch as you cock off to the side, his body spooning you as you both hunker down, his arms tightly around your body as he pulls the comforter up over you both.

“One day at a time,” you repeat sleepily, feeling Spencer’s breath on the back of your neck keeping time with the rhythm of your heartbeat as your eyes begin to droop, fluttering closed as the darkness overtakes you once again.


	6. Lean On Me

Haha! Yes you most certainly can! Here is Part 6, comin’ ‘atcha!

(Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 7 Part 8 Part 9 Part 10 Part 11)

 

Your eyes flutter open as you groan, rolling over on the couch as a pain shoots through your back.

Sucking in a sharp bout of air, you hear Spencer mumble from behind you.

“Don’t worry…mine’s the same.”

Hearing him chuckle lightly, you sniff the air, the smell of coffee and toast wafting through his apartment.

Slowly sitting up, you stretch your arms out, your back cracking into place as a strong wave of relief wafts through to your chest.

“Oh, there it is,” you moan.

Opening your eyes as Spencer places a plate of toast in front of you, he holds out a mug of coffee, light browned with cream and just a hint of sugar.

“Bless you,” you say, throwing your lazy-eyed gaze up at him.

“Not a problem,” he says, lobbing himself back down onto the couch as he grabs a piece of toast on the way down.

“How did you sleep?” you ask, your gaze slowly drifting over to him.

“About as well as I look,” he huffs, groaning as he takes another sip of his coffee.

“I am so sorry we fell asleep out here,” you say, sighing into your mug before taking another long draw.

“No, no…it was fine. My back just twinges a bit,” he says as his face winces.

“Yeah, same here,” you huff as you roll your eyes.

After sitting for a while in silence, the coffee doing absolutely nothing for either of your energy levels, you slowly look over to the microwave, registering the time to be 11 am.

“Any plans for the day?” you ask, lobbing your hand over and sloppily slapping him on his thigh.

“Nope,” he says.

“Perfect,” you say, heaving yourself off of the couch.

“Where are you going?” Spencer asks, his gaze following you curiously.

“To your bed. I’m exhausted.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Sighing as your eyes flutter open again, you are greeted with the moonlight cascading through the windows.

Feeling a shifting beside you, you grin lightly as you roll over, seeing Spencer’s disheveled appearance laying beside you.

“Apparently sleeping on the couch is more romantic when you’re a teenager,” he chuckles lightly.

“And teenagers we are not,” you say, your eyebrows hiking up as you roll over onto your side, your whole body facing him.

“We slept the day away,” he says, moving his hair out of his face.

“Yep,” you say, popping the “p” lightly.

“That means we probably won’t sleep now that it’s dark out,” Spencer comments.

“Nope,” you say, popping the “p” a little louder.

“So…what do you want to do?” he asks, propping his head up on his hand.

“Dinner and a movie marathon?” you ask, wiggling your eyebrows as you throw the covers off of you.

“I’ll order the food,” Spencer says, planting his feet on the floor.

“Alright, I’ll get a shower and pick out some movies,” you respond.

“Oh! Can one of them be that documentary on hospital births versus home births? I heard it’s quite a sight.”

Giggling as you shake your head, you peel your clothes off in his bathroom as you shut the door with your foot.

“Whatever you’d like!” you call out.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Feeling the water rush over your body was invigorating. Spencer’s shower-head was essentially heaven, and as you stood there, your hair basking in its conditioner, you hear a thud from the apartment above as your hands start to shake.

_Thud!_

“I wouldn’t struggle if I were you…”

_Bang!_

“What a shame…this beautiful body going to waste…”

_ThuDUNK!_

“Save…your…STRENGTH!”

Throwing your eyes open as your breath comes in shallow spurts, the conditioner starts to sting your eyes as you hiss and close them tight, rubbing them as you allow the water to wash it away.

_Knock knock knock._

“Y/N? Are you alright in there?”

“Y-yeah, Spencer…I’m alright. Just taking my time,” you call back.

“Alright, take all the time you need,” he says, a brief pause before you hear him shuffle away.

As your legs knock together, the stubble on them catching your attention, you groan as you realize you probably don’t have your razor, and as you look around to double check, your eyes land on Spencer’s.

Picking it up, you twirl the black and silver razor in your hand, the blades glistening as the water droplets from your nose bounce off of them before hitting the shower floor.

Closing your eyes as your breathing picks up, you feel your grip tighten around the handle as you slowly lower your head, the razor dipping down to your leg without reaching for the shaving cream.

Feeling your jaw tense, your entire body awaiting its imminent release, your lips start to quiver as the hot tears pour down your cheeks.

“Damn it,” you whimper, banging your forehead lightly against the shower wall.

“Damn it…damn it…damn it!”

“Y/N?”

Hearing the door open, you throw Spencer’s razor to the other side of the shower, it clattering out onto the dry ground on the other side of the tub as you watch Spencer’s head dip down, a light sigh emanating from him as you back up, your head bowed as you press your back against the shower wall.

Watching him as he gets closer, you take in a quivering breath as he stops just short of the curtain.

“Are you bleeding?” he asks lowly.

“I-I-I-I…”

As the tears pour and your breath hitches, you see Spencer’s hand appear around the curtain, searching for you.

Reaching your hand out slowly, you wrap your fingers within his, hearing him sigh with relief.

“Are you alright?” he asks again.

“N-N-N-…”

Your whole body shaking, you watch as Spencer’s other hand appears, offering you a towel as you dip down and turn the shower off, taking the towel and wrapping it around you as you step out slowly, Spencer helping you steady yourself on the cool laminated flooring.

“Y/N,” he whispers.

Slowly opening your eyes, your tired gaze finding his worried expression, you draw another ragged breath before finding the courage to speak.

“No,” you say.

“No to what?” Spencer asks.

“Everything,” you say as your face starts to contort, the sobs coming in waves as your body starts to shake.

“Oh, Y/N,” he sighs, pulling your drenched body in to his, his warmth draping over you like a cool comforter on a hot summer night as you bury your body in to his, your legs shaking underneath you as he slowly moves you from the bathroom over to the bed.

“What happened?” Spencer asks, his hand on your bare knee as he squeezes lightly, trying to urge you to talk.

“I-I-I don’t know,” you say, holding your arms out as your hands shake, the towel slowly slipping down, “One moment there were sounds from the apartment above, and the next I was overcome by his voice, and then suddenly I had this overwhelming tension all across my body…a-a-and I felt the stubble on my legs,” you say as you lift one in the air to show him, “and then I…I spotted your razor and I picked it up, about to call out to see if I could use it a-a-and…and then I just…it…”

Your entire body shaking, Spencer pulls you close under his arm as he leans his head onto yours, his lips finding your temple as he places multiple kisses on it, trying to calm you down.

“H-h-had you not walked in…”

Sobbing in to his chest, your entire body lobbed into his lap, he runs his fingers thru your sopping wet hair as tears spring to his own eyes.

“But you didn’t do it,” he whispers, his free hand settling on your back, lightly massaging it, “No matter what the reason for not doing it, you didn’t. And that says a lot.”

“That part of my life was so long ago…” you trail off.

“Something like this,” he says, picking you up and wrapping the comforter around your body, “It never goes away. In strong situations like this, the memories, and the feelings…and the cravings…”

As Spencer starts to stare off, you bring your hand up to his cheek, cupping his face as your thumb rubs against him.

“…they never go away. You just reign them in. In these moments, when you want it the most, it’s best to have someone you care for…”

And as he locks his eyes with you, laying his hand over yours on his cheek, he says, “…someone you trust, to help you through it. All you have to do is pick up the phone, or call out into the apartment, and let the other person help you with the rest.”

“Do you have someone like that?” you ask him, your voice soft as your puffy red eyes search his face.

“Well, when I help her get back onto her feet,” he says, bringing your hand to his lips and lightly kissing your fingers, “I hope that I will.”


	7. "Trust"

The next couple of days were a blur. The craving had initially hit in the shower, but the after effects were terrible. Every sharp object your eyes would happen upon, the little voice at the back of your head would start gnawing at you.

“Give yourself the relief you deserve.”

“You know that you need this.”

“One swipe and you can go to sleep.”

Sighing as you dig your fingers into the top of your head, you clench your eyes shut at 3 am as you swing your feet off of the side of the bed, locking your jaw as you take a deep breath in through your nose, and slowly releasing it out of your mouth.

“Y/N?”

Feeling a hand lightly plant itself onto your bare back, a groggy Spencer grunts as he sits up, realizing that your body is shaking ever so lightly.

“Come here,” he whispers, taking his arm and wrapping it around you as he pulls you back down onto the bed, his long, lanky arms enveloping you and pulling you close as he slowly runs his fingers through your hair.

“It hasn’t been this bad in so long…” you trail off.

“I know,” he murmurs, kissing the top of your head as he blinks the sleep away from his eyes.

After a brief pause, he says, “You know, the last time I craved, it took me 6 whole days to kick it.”

Groaning as you bring your arms down, curling them in as he pulls you still closer, you slowly inch your leg in between his, pushing the pillow he used as a comfort in between his knees at night.

“That better?” he asks, scooting his head back and looking down at you as your eyes start to flutter closed again.

“I’ll take that as a yes,” he whispers as he settles his head back down, his arms giving you one more squeeze before his eyes flutter shut themselves.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Opening your eyes as you shield them from the sun outside, your ears perk up as you hear Spencer talking in the other room.

“She’s still sleeping,” he says.

Rolling over as you move your hair from your face, you begin to make out Hotch’s voice.

“Do you think she could do without you for a couple of days, Reid?”

Furrowing your brow as you slowly sit up in bed, you stretch as your back cracks, stifling as sigh as Spencer finally speaks up again.

“No, no I don’t think she can. She’s really struggling Hotch…and I really need to be here.”

He was choosing you over his job?

You knew that he was cooped up here…probably going stir crazy for all you knew.

Grabbing your robe and slipping into his house shoes, you shuffle out, your groggy stare meeting Hotch’s as his expression changes from one of stern urgency to a more comforting, father-esque emotion.

“Hey there, Y/N,” he says, smiling lightly as he turns his body towards you.

“Spencer can go,” you say matter-of-factly.

Watching Spencer furrow his brow, you turn to him and plant your shoulders back.

“You’ve been with me here, in your apartment, enough. I know you have got to be going stir crazy. As far as I know you haven’t picked up but about 3 books the entire time I’ve been here. It has got to be taxing, dealing with me…and maybe focusing on something else, you know…being around other people…will help you a bit.”

“No offense, but this is my decision,” he says, shaking his head at you before turning back towards Hotch.

“I’m not leaving her,” he says.

As Hotch continues to address you, Spencer’s face grows red with anger.

“We need Reid for this case,” he says.

“I know,” you murmur, your shoulders slumping back a bit.

Why were you so disappointed in sharing him with the team? It’s just the team.

“Hello! I’m actually here,” Spencer says, waving his arms in the air like a lunatic.

“Spencer,” you sigh, turning back towards him, “There are people out there in dire situations that need you…that need that brain of yours.”

“But you need me,” he says, coming over and putting his hands on your arms.

“And you have been here,” you say, looking up at him and smiling lightly.

“But it’s time I attempted to do this, even for a little bit, on my own,” you finish.

“Y/N…” he draws out.

“It will be alright,” you whisper, taking his hands within yours and bringing them down in between you two, “I promise.”

And as Spencer audibly sighs, knowing good and well that he is making the wrong decision, he slowly draws his gaze over to Hotch.

“Could I do my job from HQ?”

“Spenc-”

Holding his hand up, he turns his head and glares at you, earning him a set of wide eyes on your face as Hotch’s brow lightly furrows in confusion.

“Yes, I suppose you could,” Hotch says.

“Then that’s what I’ll do. I’ll do this from HQ. Y/N,” he says, turning towards you, “You can keep staying here. You have clothes here that are clean, and I can…create a soothing environment for you while I’m gone.”

That was code for “hiding all of the sharp objects so you can’t hurt yourself.”

And…that was fair, given the past couple of days.

“Thank you so much, Reid,” Hotch says, putting his hand on Spencer’s shoulder.

Watching Hotch as he walks out Spencer’s door, he turns around as he locks his eyes on to you.

“And Y/N?” he says.

“Yes, boss?” you respond.

“When I told you to take all the time you need, that is what I meant,” he says, eyeing you closely before you slowly nod your head.

“Yes, sir.”

And as he turns to walk out the door, Spencer slowly shutting it behind him, he looks at you with a defeated stare before slowly shuffling over to you.

“Why don’t you go take a nice, hot shower?” he asks, his hand on your arm as your expression slowly drops.

“Hide whatever you need to,” you say flatly, turning your back to walk in to his bedroom as you hear him start to shuffle around in the kitchen.


	8. Accident

Hearing Spencer shut the door, you didn’t bother to tell him goodbye, and he didn’t want to disturb you as you had thrown the covers over your head, feigning sleep until he left.

It wasn’t that you were upset with him…you couldn’t blame him for the measures he was taking.

You were upset that he had to in the first place.

You were convinced that this was something you could beat on your own. After all, you did it once before.

But in every piece of material on the subject that you read in Spencer’s apartment (behind his back, of course) you saw where the cravings were always stronger, and more intense, than what you experienced initially when you were doing “your drug” on a regular basis.

Groaning as you roll yourself out of bed, you decide to take a shower and stay in bed all day. You could bring in some snacks, a few drinks, and your laptop and piddle the day away by surfing funny videos and reading research while stuffing your cheeks like a hamster until Spencer came back.

Climbing in to the shower as the warm water hits your back, you wash your body quickly, letting your hair get wet before washing it.

It took you all of 10 minutes to get out, since Spencer had forgotten about his razor sitting in there.

He remembered the kitchen knives, the plastic cutlery, and even put away the nail clippers…but he forgot his damn razor.

Quickly grabbing it and tossing it out the window, you watch as it flurries to the ground, a confused set of spectators looking up at an empty balcony as you stand back, their “what the fuck”‘s and “holy hell”‘s coming at a distance as you close the window, smiling to yourself.

“Personal victory,” you say, doing a little touchdown dance before prancing out to the kitchen to grab all of your items.

Stacking your drinks and your snacks by your side of Spencer’s bed, you look around for an open socket, knowing full good and well that you would have to charge your laptop at some point in time today.

But, to your surprise, all of the outlets in the room that were reachable, were taken up.

Sighing as you look around, you go rummaging through his things, finally finding a miniature extension cord.

“Yes!” you exclaim to yourself as you plug it in on the other side of the room, connecting your laptop charger to it so that you could sink down in bed all day and mask your cravings with Cheeto’s and miniature Kit Kat Bars.

Groaning as you feel the need to pee rising in your bladder, you drop your laptop off to the side and swing your feet over, planting them haphazardly on the floor as you take your first step towards the bathroom.

And as your foot gets tangled in the extension cord, your eyes widen as you go careening backwards, the back of your arm catching the side of the bedside table as you land ass-first onto the floor, your arm bleeding on to your shirt from the massive cut it had left behind.

And oh, the euphoria.

Feeling tears well in your eyes, you let out a deep sigh as the pain courses through your system, damping…for just a little while…the pain that you felt in your chest…the nagging sensation in the back of your mind…

For just a few seconds, the stress and the tension and the craving was gone.

Feeling the blood trickle down your arm is what brought you back to reality.

As your eyes widen, you twist your arm to take a look at the cut, your jaw dropping to the floor as you heave yourself off of his carpet, desperate to not get blood on his floor.

“Oh, no,” you murmur.

Spencer was going to think you did it on purpose.

“Oh no, oh no, oh no…fuck!” you exclaim, your arm starting to throb as the absence of the pain in your mind made you think clearly for the first time in days.

“I need to go to him,” you say, your eyes maniacal as you search for your coat, “If I go to him,” you murmur, talking to yourself, “And tell him it was a mistake, that I just tripped and fell…he won’t be angry…right?”

Raising up to look at yourself in the mirror, your hair disheveled and your chest sagging practically to your rib-cage, you curse the gods for your disgusting appearance as you throw your coat over yourself, zipping it up to cover your lack of a bra as you slip on your slippers and head for the door.

“I have to tell him now,” you say, your hands shaking as you slam the door behind you.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“But doesn’t this mean that-”

As the team turns their head at the commotion coming down the hallway, Spencer hears you yelling at Garcia to get out of the way as you come stumbling down the hallway, tears rolling down your cheeks.

“Oh, my god,” Morgan mumbles as his jaw slacks, Spencer taking off down the stairs as he sees you round the corner.

“Spencer…Spencer!” you yell, turning your body around as your wild eyes try to navigate the sea of people now staring at you in horror.

“Y/N!” he says, putting his hands on your shoulders and steadying you, “Y/N. what’s wrong? What’s happened? Did someone come in to the apartment? Are you hurt?”

Checking your face and your neck before he lifts your hair up, you unzip your coat and toss it to the ground, turning the back of your arm to him as you show him your cut.

“I swear to god I didn’t do it, Spencer,” you beg, your eyes searching his as his face drops.

“Spencer, I swear to yo-…look at me!”

Yelling at him to look at you, his eyes slowly climb back up, finding your gaze as he takes a deep breath.

“I know, I hid everything,” he says flatly.

“Well, no…you forgot your razor in your bathtub…b-b-but I threw it out the window, I swear!” you say, waving your arms in the air as the pain continues to ricochet through your arm, clearing your brain every time the pain wafts through your system.

“I figured if I stayed in bed all day with my laptop then I wouldn’t be tempted so I surrounded myself with snacks and drinks and videos on YouTube and then I had to pee so I got up and stumbled over the extension cord I had to plug in because all of the other plugs were taken on my side of the bed and then I lost my footing and tripped over the cord-”

As you continue rambling, the entire team gathering around you to shield you from the eyes of the rest of the office, Spencer looks at you warmly as your eyes continue to grow larger and larger, your breasts flailing underneath your shirt with every jerking motion of your hands to try and prove to him that you did not cut yourself intentionally.

“Y/N…” he says soothingly, putting his hands on your face.

Stopping in your tracks as your gaze pulls up to meet him, tears run down your cheeks as you whisper, “I swear I didn’t do it…”

“I know,” he says, his voice low as he dips his forehead on to yours, “You are so much stronger than you realize,” he whispers.

Closing your eyes as the tears continue to pour down onto your neck, you open your eyes, worry crossing your face as Spencer’s smile falls from his lips.

“But it still had the same effect.”

Hearing Spencer suck in a deep breath, he wraps his arms around you as he lets out a great sigh, his chest heaving against yours as you sob into his chest.

“I still had the same…damn…effect…”

As the team looks around at each other, J.J. and Garcia’s eyes filling with tears as Morgan wraps both of his arms around you both, Hotch leans in to Spencer and murmurs something you can’t comprehend.

Feeling Spencer nod, he pulls you back, putting his hands on your shoulders as he dips down in to your gaze.

“Spencer…?” you finally choke out.

“Yeah?” he responds, continuing to stare at you.

“I can’t do this alone,” you say, lightly shaking your head.

“That’s all we needed to hear,” Rossi steps in, taking you from Spencer as he wraps his arms tight around you.

“I’m sorry,” you sob into his shoulder.

“For what, doll?” he asks as he strokes your hair.

“For being a disappointment.”

“Oh, sweetheart,” he coos, pulling you back as you feel Hotch’s grasp lightly on your shoulder, “You are far from it. You have done what most of us on this team still can’t do.”

Furrowing your brow, you ask, “What’s that?”

And as J.J. parts the sea of men, giving you a warm embrace as she tries to smooth your hair down, you look over at Rossi as he smiles and says, “Willingly lean on us for help.”

Nodding slowly as the rest of the team gets in their hugs, Garcia picks up your coat and hands it back to you, helping you get your injured arm in as she zips your coat back up.

“Y/N?” Spencer asks.

“Yeah?”

“I still have a bit of work to do with Hotch upstairs, but once I’m done we can swing by your house and get some more clothes, alright?”

Nodding slowly, you look around for a place to sit just as Emily reaches her hand out and takes yours.

“I thought you and I and the girls would go in to Garcia’s den of awesome and pull up some funny videos. You know, the vending machine is right there, and we can pig out while Reid finishes up.”

And as you smile, blinking rapidly to choke back tears, you hear Garcia squeal as J.J. takes your other hand, turning you down the hallway as the three of you follow Garcia back to her layer of technology, rattling off all of the trending videos that she was anxious to show you.


	9. Replacement Therapy

Finally arriving back at Spencer’s, you keep rattling on about the auto-tune videos of the ridiculous stories on the news, and as Spencer smiles at you, his hand drifting to your lower back as he unlocks the door, you step through the threshold of his apartment, the reality of the afternoon coming back to you as your hand involuntarily drifts back up to your arm.

“Let me take a look at that closer,” he says, shrugging off his coat and dropping his messenger bag as you unzip your coat.

“I’m so sorry about how I look…” you trail off, smoothing your hair down as your eyes glance over your sagging bosom.

Damn gigantic boobs.

Fingering the rip in your shirt as he slowly lifts the arm of the shirt up, his finger grazes over the scab as you pull back, sucking in a short bout of air as his brow furrows at the sight of it.

“You’re a bit bruised,” he says, going over to the freezer and grabbing an ice pack.

“Here,” he says, pressing it lightly against your arm as you recoil at the cold.

“Spencer, I-”

Feeling your eyes water again as you look off to the side, he cups the side of your face as he forces your face back to his, your gaze tentatively climbing to his.

“This…was not…your fault,” he says.

As you giggle and snicker, feeling the tears fall as you groan and throw your head back, Spencer goes and takes a peek in his room, grimacing at the lamp on the floor as the extension cord glows orange and tangled from the floor in his room.

“Did you really throw my razor out the window?” he asks incredulously, turning around to look at you as your giggle grows into a full-on belly laugh.

“Yes, yes I really did,” you say, nodding as you hold the ice pack to your arm.

Shaking his head as he laughs heartily, he takes a deep breath as he goes in search of his vacuum, determined to get the broken bulb glass off of the floor.

“Well, hopefully you don’t mind a bit of scruff,” he says as he runs his hand along his cheek, “Because I plan to stay in all weekend and sleep.”

“A little scruff never did any man a bit of harm,” you say, your eyes catching his as you smile lightly, feeling your face flush before you turn away.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Settling down in bed, your arm still throbbing lightly, you feel Spencer shift as he opens his sleepy eyes.

“Finally,” he groans, throwing the covers off of his body as he slowly sits up.

“I’m so sorry,” you say, bringing your arm around to smooth the hair from his face, “I didn’t mean to wake you.”

“No, no, it’s alright. I wasn’t asleep,” he says, yawning as he completes his struggle to sit upright.

“Uh huh,” you say, your tongue in your cheek as you throw the covers over your legs.

“How are you feeling?” he asks, rubbing the sleep from his eyes as he studies your face.

“Not much better,” you admit, your fingers once again drifting to your arm, “I find myself pressing on the bruise whenever my mind starts to wander. I don’t know, the pain just…whips me back. Makes my chest not ache as much.”

Watching Spencer nod lightly as his fingers instinctively come up and run across your bruise, you flinch lightly at his touch as you slowly turn your face towards him.

“I feel like I’ve disappointed you…” you trail off, the light in your eyes dimming as you swallow hard.

“Not at all, Y/N,” Spencer says, looking up at you as he takes your hand and squeezes, “It’s just going to take time. You tripped and fell…it happens to everyone.”

“On the up side, I’m not struggling with the nightmares as much as I thought,” you say, offering up a fake smile as Spencer shakes his head lightly at you.

“Stop trying to make this process faster than it should be,” he says sternly.

“But I’m over feeling so helpless, Spencer,” you say, putting your face in your hands, “I’m over not being trusted by myself. I’m over not being able to trust myself. I’m over staying in this apartment with a man looming over me like I’m a clumsy toddler. I’m over sleeping in a bed with a man that I can’t touch. I’m over waking up to a man that I can’t have!”

As Spencer’s eyes widen in surprise, your breathing speeds up as you groan in to your hands, planting your feet on the floor as you shoot up from the bed.

“I’m sorry…I-I-I…just need some water,” you say, power walking out of the room as you throw Spencer’s door open.

Fumbling with a glass in the kitchen as you turn the sink on, you hold the glass under the water as you take ragged breaths in and out, tears threatening to race down your face as you hear the pitter patter of light feet slowly come up behind you.

“Y/N…”

Feeling your knees weaken, your hand shakes as you bring the glass of water to your lips, Spencer pushing his body flush against your back as you swallow hard, the glass slipping out of your hand and in to the sink with a start as you brace yourself against the kitchen counter as his hands meander slowly to your hips.

“Spencer…I-”

Feeling him nuzzle in to your neck, his breath hot on your skin, your eyes roll in to the back of your head as you moan lightly.

“You are beautiful,” he says lightly, his lips against your ear, “And I’ve been so worried about you these past few days.”

Slowly turning around to meet his gaze, your back against the corner of the counter as your hands brace you, your eyes search his as he licks his lips slowly.

“Spencer…it’s not that I’m not ready,” you say, bringing your hands from the counter to his chest, stopping him leaning in to you.

“What is it?” he asks, his eyes pleading as you feel him growing against your pelvis.

“I’m concerned that I will…”

Watching him as he slowly lowers his head, his forehead resting gently on yours, his lips move ever so slowly to yours as you whisper, “I’m scared that I’ll replace my cravings for cutting with cravings for you.”

And as you feel him pause, his lips ever so lightly grazing yours, you feel his hot breath pulsating rhythmically over your face as he mutters against your lips:

“I can live with that.”


	10. Give In

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Smut warning for this chapter.

Breathing heavily on to his lips, your sigh was all he needed.

As your body goes limp against the kitchen counter, he closes the gap, his lips encompassing yours as a warmth cascades through your body.

It was intoxicating.

Feeling his arms wrap around your waist, he hoists you up on to the kitchen counter, your bare feet running up and down the back of his thighs as you press your face in to his, your tongue exploring his lips as you run it slowly across his bottom lip.

Feeling his lips tremble with want, his tongue slips out, prodding in to your mouth as you feel him dancing around, his lips pressed close as your head lobs off to the side.

The moan that rose from your throat was nothing short of ethereal.

Feeling his fingertips sink in to your love handle, he brings his other hand to your hair, grabbing a fistful lightly as he tugs, bending your head back as he licks and nips down your neck, your chest heaving shallowly as your body flushes with heat.

“Oh, Spencer…” you breathe.

Feeling him stop short of your cleavage, you feel him pull back…staring at your body as he sighs deeply.

“My god, you’re beautiful,” he murmurs lowly as he presses his warm, wet lips to your breast.

Feeling your body shudder, you reach your hands down, grasping the hem of your shirt as you lob it over your head, your bare chest bouncing as you toss it over the kitchen counter and in to the main living area.

As Spencer’s eyes widen, his face flushed and glistening, he brings his hands up involuntarily to your nipples, twisting them in his fingers as you lob your head back, arching your chest towards him.

Breathing heavily as his hands slowly wander your naked torso, his fingertips kneading the softness of your stomach as you lob your head forward again, you catch his eyes, dark and pleading, as you hop off of the counter and take his hand.

Guiding him wordlessly in to his bedroom, you turn back around as you watch him remove his shirt, his body quickly following you as he wraps his arms back around you, his hand supporting your head as he backs you up and guides you slowly on to the mattress.

“Are you sure?” he asks, his eyes searching yours for any sign of regret.

“I’ve never been sure of anything more,” you mutter, raising your head up and planting a feather-like kiss on his lips.

Feeling him start to kiss down your cheek, his lips ghosting against your ear as he blows lightly, the goosebumps on your arms stand on end as you shiver, your nipples puckering more as he nips at your skin randomly, making you jump with each mark he leaves.

Squirming underneath him as you feel him reach your pant line, your heart rate begins to speed up as he nuzzles the inside of your leg, his breath hot against your skin underneath.

Moaning in agreement as he slowly begins to slip your pants down, he chuckles breathlessly at your pantie-less state.

“Oh, shut up,” you breathe, swatting your hand lifelessly at him as he catches it mid-air, bringing it to his lips and kissing the back of your hand.

“I never said anything about it being bad,” he says, smirking at you as you throw your eyes open, staring at the ceiling.

This was happening.

This was actually happening.

“Spencer…” you say.

The tone of your voice stopped him in his tracks.

“I’m sorry…I’m so sorry,” he says, scurrying to get up as he grabs his shirt from the floor, throwing it over your naked torso as he stands up and runs his fingers through his hair.

“I should’ve never pushed like I did…I just…when I was craving sex really helped me. Well, not sex, but masturbating…orgasms, you know? They helped me with the stress and the anxiety, and I want to help you so much…a-a-and then once the cravings from the Dilaudid were done-”

“Spencer!” you say, raising your voice as you try to get his attention.

“Yeah?” he asks, his breath coming in shallow pants as tears crest your eyes.

“You…you were just doing this because of my cravings?” you ask, your voice wavering as you cover yourself with his shirt.

“No, no no no,” he says, sinking to his knees as he crawls up to you, his hands on your bare thighs as you shudder again at his touch, “It’s just that it helped me, and I figured I could accomplish two things at once.”

“And what would the other thing be?” you ask, your eyes wild.

“I uh…”

Watching him as he swallows hard, tears start escaping from your eyes as you pull his shirt closer to your body, desperate to cover yourself up.

As his eyes search your face, he scrambles off of his knees and runs for the door, slamming it shut as he flicks the light switch off, the room encompassing itself in darkness as you breathe a sigh of relief.

“Thank you,” you whisper.

“You felt exposed,” he says as you hear him approach you again, jumping when his hands slide back on to your thighs.

“A little,” you say meekly, squinting your eyes as you search for his silhouette.

“Y-you…I didn’t…I mean-”

Pressing your hand to his cheek, your finger slowly moving over his lips, you guide your face to your hand as you remove it, placing a slow, deep kiss against his lips as you smile.

“You didn’t make me do anything, Spencer,” you murmur.

Hearing him breathe a sigh of relief, you cup his face in your hands as you stare into what you thought was his eyes.

After all, his apartment was really dark.

“Now, what was the other thing you were wanting to accomplish?” you ask, your voice low and sultry.

Feeling him pause as his hands knead your thighs, your body begins to shake lightly with the sensation as he slowly leans his lips to your ear.

“I wanted you to know how much I love you,” he breathes.

Feeling your eyes widen as your heart rate picks up, your jaw begins to tremble as a tear rushes down your cheek.

“Y-you…you love me?” you choke out.

“More than anyone I have ever come across,” he says, his breath hot on your face as you reach your hands out for his body.

Pulling him close, he attaches his lips to your chest, his tongue flicking out every so often as he slowly leans you back, his tongue working its way down, tracing every line and every divot as he slowly places your legs over his shoulders.

Feeling him kiss your growing wetness, your breath hitches in your throat as your legs begin to jump, his kisses turning to laps as his tongue slowly probes and prods, exploring your juices as the heat in your core slowly grows to a burn.

“Oh god…Spencer,” you moan, your body shaking and twitching as he starts to glide his tongue over your sensitive mound, his tongue pushing deeper as his fingertips press deeply in to your hips.

“Oh…oh….god!” you breathlessly exclaim, your body jolting and twitching as his tongue continues to lap you up, pressing in to you as your hips start to buck lightly against his face.

Feeling him moan against you, the vibrations ricocheting through your rib cage, you arch your back off of the bed as his hands grasp your voluptuous ass, running his hands all around your flushing skin as he pulls your hips closer to his face, his mouth buried deep in your core.

“Spen-Spen-…oh, my god…yes…please…right there, right there, right there…”

Calling out into the darkness, his name rumbling off of your lips as your body convulses and contracts with your orgasm, you grunt and groan and grab at the mass of sheets beside you as Spencer sucks your pearl in to his mouth, his teeth grazing it lightly as he rides his orgasm with you, his face never leaving your treasure trove as you slowly come back down, your body lowering itself to the bed as his fingertips release you, his breath coming in short pants as he sits back and chuckles.

Panting as your head swirls, you rear up quickly and reach for him, your hand finding his hair in the darkness as you yank him on top of you, your feet working tirelessly to get his pants off as he yanks them down, kicking them off of his feet and to the side.

“My socks…” he says as he reaches down to try and take them off.

“I don’t give a damn about your socks,” you growl as you throw your lips onto his face, kissing his nose and his cheek, nipping at his jaw line as his head goes limp, his breath hot in the crook of your neck as he dips his hand down to position himself between you.

Slowly pushing forward as he sheathes himself within you, the two of you moan desperately as you bring your legs up and wrap them around him, his hips rolling into yours as you lick his face, lapping up the residue of you on him as his hands plant themselves on either side of your head.

“I love you so much,” he whimpers, his hips rolling faster in to you as you buck your hips against him.

“I love you, too, Spencer…” you say breathlessly, your breasts bouncing with every thrust you make as you dig your fingers in to his back.

The growl that emanated from his throat was positively primal.

“Hang on,” he mutters, his voice low and rumbling as he grabs your legs, the crook of your knees hanging over his shoulders as he dips back down to you, supporting himself on the back of your legs.

Feeling your jaw agape as the pleasure rips through your body, he pounds his hips in to you, your eyes rolling into the back of your head as random syllables and obscenities tumble off of your tongue, your juices dripping down as you cover his balls.

“Oh, my god,” Spencer breathes, his hips rocking and pounding as his breathing picks up, “Oh, good fuck.”

Digging your fingertips into his thighs as he leans back up, his knees supporting you both as he drives you home, your monosyllabic words meld into a drone as his hand dips down, encircling your swollen, throbbing mound as you call out his name.

“Oh, god…Spencer! Yes!!”

And as you clench down on him, your swollen walls pulsating with your second orgasm, Spencer drops back down, bringing your knees to your ears as he presses his lips in to yours.

“I love you desperately,” he whispers against your lips as his kisses trail to your neck.

As you ride your orgasm, your walls clenching harder than you ever imagined, your eyes roll backwards as your throat continues to drone, Spencer’s sweat dripping from his nose to your cheek as he lays his teeth in to your shoulder, his throbbing dick twitching inside of you as you feel his warmth gather between your legs.

As he grunts and groans, his rhythmic pounding becoming weakening thrusts, your legs slide off of his shoulders as his body goes limp on top of you, his breathing coming quickly as he rests his face in the crook of your neck, your juices intermingling between your legs as you wrap your arms around his neck, his body shaking on top of yours as the both of you try to recover.

Feeling the heat and smell of sex permeate his room, the wind outside picking up as he howls past the cracks of the window, he slowly rolls off of you as you turn towards him, the darkness finally giving way to his barely-there silhouette as you scoot closer, resting your head on his chest as your body continues to quiver.

“You…”

Breathing hard as Spencer’s hand slowly trails up your spine, you take another deep breath as you try again.

“You are…”

Feeling him lean up and kiss the top of your head, you feel his breathing starting to steady out as you roll your head, kissing him lightly on his chest.

“You are my everything,” you breathe.

And for once, if only for the few minutes it took you to fall asleep, the pain ricocheting through your arm from your bruised cut was nothing more than that.

Pain.

And you fell asleep that night with a smile on your face.


	11. Return

Yawning as your eyes slowly open, you throw your arms out to the side and stretch as something rustles around your waist.

Shifting around slowly as your crusty eyes land on Spencer, you smile lightly as you feel your naked form pressed against his, bringing your hand to your eyes as you wipe the sleep from them.

“Morning,” you croak.

“Morning,” he mumbles as he nuzzles his face in to your neck.

Smiling as you wrap your arms around him, you pull him close to your body as the soft pads of his fingers dance circles in the dip of your waist.

“Last night was incredible,” he says, breaking the silence as he presses his lips lightly against your bare skin.

“Yes, it was,” you muse, your gaze thrown at the ceiling as you recount the steaming events of the night before.

“How are you feeling?” he asks, his neck craning back as he tries to find your eyes.

“I’m not craving, if that’s what you’re wondering,” you smirk, looking down at him as his eyes get stern.

“No. Not that,” he says.

“Then…I’m not sure what you mean,” you say, breaking contact from him as you roll towards him and perch on your side, your head resting in your hand as your breasts go lobbing off to the side.

“I mean…how are you feeling about…you know…last night?”

It was cute how he whispered the last part.

“Ah, you mean our little…encounter,” you emphasize as your face gets closer to his.

Even his morning breath was intoxicating.

Watching as his face flushes, you scoot your body towards him as your leg is poked with something stout.

Feeling your eyes widen as a giggle escapes your lips, Spencer throws himself to the side as he buries his face in his pillow.

“Oh my god, I am so sorry,” he groans, the flush of embarrassment making it all the way to his back.

Laughing as you take your hand and grab his arm, you turn him back around as you throw him on to his back, your body shooting up off of the bed as you straddle him, your thighs clenching on to him as you roll your hips.

“W-wh…what…?”

He was so cute when he was flustered.

Lifting yourself off of him as you grab his morning wood, you slowly wriggle him in between your warm lips as you slide down on to him, his eyes fluttering closed as a groan escapes his lips.

Bending down as your hips slowly roll, your hands planted on either side of his head, you dip your face down and press a feather-like kiss against his mouth, your tongue darting out quickly as you catch his bottom lip between your teeth.

Suckling on it as you slowly start to bouce up and down, your juices covering him from tip to base, you let go of his lip with a pop as he shudders underneath you, your lips dipping deep in to his ear as your hands slide down his arms to find his, your fingers slowly intertwining with each other’s.

“This is how I feel,” you whisper.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

You wished you could say you felt better after your shower.

You wished you could say you felt better after your post-shower shower.

But every time Spencer laid his eyes on you, it was game-over.

The entire day was spent darting between the bathroom and the bedroom, with a very curious adventure in the kitchen that ended up with a run to the store for disinfectant wipes.

The two of you were addicted.

You can’t remember sex ever feeling this incredible. Yes, it had been a while, but you remember having orgasms. Hell, you gave them to yourself every once in a while when the tension became too much.

But these? With Spencer?

It was dangerous.

“Spencer…?” you moan as his tongue slips down between your legs.

“Yes, beautiful?” he asks, his voice low as his eyes shoot up to yours.

“Why are we doing this?”

As you feel him pause, his fingers slowly sliding out of you, you sigh as he crawls back up your body, his figure slowly descending beside you as he hooks his gaze to yours.

“Because I love you,” he says, his gaze confused as you slowly look over at him, the tears caressing your temple as they soak a bit of your hair.

“What’s wrong?” he whimpers, his demeanor quickly changing from debonair sex fiend to concerned best friend.

“I’m scared,” you mutter, your lips trembling as he holds you close.

“Scared of what?” he whispers, his arms picking you up and pressing your head in to his chest.

“I’m scared that when we return to work in a couple of days, that…that when we do…this will all have been…”

Trailing off as a quiet sob escapes your lips, Spencer bends his head down and presses his lips to the top of your head, his body strong and steady as yours shakes against him.

“I love you,” he says, his voice strong as he picks you up and turns your face up towards him.

“All of you,” he enunciates.

Sniffling as you try to even out your breath, he closes the gap between your faces as he encompasses your lips, the taint of your taste still on his tongue as your legs begin to shake.

“And just because you are struggling does not mean I think you’re weak,” he murmurs against your lips.

As your tongue flickers out, catching his top lip lightly, you feel him sigh in to you as he says, “And just because we have to go back to work doesn’t mean we stop spending time together.”

Feeling his hand trail up your side, your body shivers as a light whimper escapes your lips.

“And just because you have scars on your body doesn’t mean that I can’t love it as well,” he whispers against your lips.

And as a sob escapes your chest, your body heaving as fresh tears pour down your face, you feel Spencer wrap his arms around your body as his mouth crashes on to yours, your teeth clattering as you roll over on to your back, his hands exploring every curve and crevice for the 8th time that day as your hips buck wildly against him.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Standing in front of the building as your gaze towers up, you feel Spencer wrap his arm around your waist as he pulls you close.

“Are you sure you’re ready?” he asks, his eyes dipping down towards you as he looks at you from the corner of his eye, “I talked to Hotch this morning, and he says that you are approved for as much as two more months if you need it.”

“Spencer?” you say as you snicker lightly to yourself, “You know the only thing I would do for those two months is send you dirty pictures whenever we weren’t together.”

“Hey, I’m not complaining,” he says as he holds his hands up in mock surrender.

“Spencer Reid!” you yelp, your hand coming around and playfully slapping his stomach as he bends forward, holding his stomach in mock pain as you shake your head at him.

“You’re bad,” you say, a grin breaking out on your cheek.

Looking slowly back up at the building as your hand mindlessly migrates to your thigh, you find yourself rubbing your scars as you take in a deep breath.

“I’ve got this,” you whisper to yourself as you feel Spencer take your gyrating hand within his.

“Yes,” he says as he turns you, his gaze stern as he cups your face with his other hand, “You’ve got this.”

And as the two of you start up the steps towards the entrance, hand in hand, Spencer swings the door open for you as the filtered air hits your face, your lungs taking in a deep breath as Spencer slips his arm around your waist…the two of you walking in tandem towards the elevator as the big metal doors ding open.


	12. Epilogue

“Christ,” you groan as you sit up, your body throbbing with pain as you swing your legs slowly over the hospital bed.

“Sweetheart, take it easy,” Spencer whispers, his hands flying to your shoulders as he tries to urge you to sit back down.

“The catheter comes out when I can walk, right?” you breathe deeply, the pain surging through your body as you visibly wince.

“Yes, but it’s been 7 hours since your last dose of medication,” Spencer says, his eyes pleading with you as you slowly stand to your feet.

“Just...let me do this,” you breathe.

Shaking his head as he clenches his jaw, he walks along with you as you grab your IV rack, slowly maneuvering yourself to the bathroom, even as tears crest your eyes folds.

“Y/N, you just had major surgery. You’re done,” Spencer states, grabbing onto your arm.

“I’m done when this damn tube is out of my bladder,” you spit as you instinctively grab at your stomach.

“Ugh,” you mutter as you stop just shy of the bathroom door.

Sighing, he holds on to you as he takes a stp twoards the room door.

“Nurse...nurse! We need some pain mediction,” Spencer shouts.

“Reid, shut up!” you whisper harshly.

But the pain became overwhelming.

“Aaaaalright,” the nurse coos, grabbing you under your arms as your knees begin to buckle, Spencer standing in front of you as he cups your face.

“I want this catheter out,” you whine lightly, your head lobbing off to the side as the nurse screws the pain medication plunger into your IV tubing.

“Well, all you had to do was say so,” the nurse says as she guides you backwards, your feet practically dragging across the floor as they sit you back down on the edge of the bed.

“I want to see him,” you whisper, fresh tears stinging your eyes.

“Well, you don’t need your catheter out for that to happen,” the nurse says, brushing your matted hair from your forehead as she looks over at a worried Spencer.

“Let me go get us a wheelchair,” she says as she puts a reassuring hand on Spencer’s arm, her fingers lightly dancing across his forearm before she turns her head to head out the door.

Sighing heavily, your breath ragged, you feel the bed move beside you as Spencer slips his arm around your waist.

“It’s not your fault,” he whispers into your ear, his breath hot on your skin before kissing it lightly.

You had taken a spill the night before, causing a hospital run that resulted in an early c-section of your son. What began as a precautionary measure on Spencer’s worried part had resulted in the premature birth of your child, and now? All you wanted to do was hold the little child that had only gestated in your body for 30 weeks.

“He’s so small...he...he needs his mother...” you choke out as the nurse comes back in with a wheelchair.

“Alright, Dad! Let’s get Mom into the chair.”

Feeling Spencer grip tightly at you waist, you feel him hoist you up as he slowly turns you around, sitting you gingerly in the chair as you sigh deeply.

“Let’s go see our son,” Spencer says, grabbing the handles of the chair and turning you around, pushing you out into the hallway.

Watching as the rooms slowly pass by, the sound of babies wailing getting ever so louder, your hands begin to tremble in anticipation as you come upon an elongated window with a sign beside it labeled “NICU.”

You were here.

Darting your eyes around, the fully encompassed baby bassinets stacked beside one another, your eyes slowly fall upon an enclosure labeled only as “Reid.”

“Daddy said he wanted you to be present when choosing a name,” the nurse says as she leans down into your field of vision.

“W-when...can I hold him?” you ask, your lip trembling as you look at the tiny life sitting all alone in that cage.

“Now...if you’d like. He’s strong. Much stronger than we could have ever anticipated,” the nurse smiles.

Feeling a surge of pride, you feel Spencer back you up, heading for the opening into the NICU as the nurse follows in behind, rushing to the child’s side as she opens up the top and dips her arms in.

“He’s a sleeper, that’s for sure,” she smiles, handing you the tiny baby boy as he nestles lightly into the bare skin of your sternum, your hands playing across him, practically encompassing his tiny body.

“My baby boy,” you whisper, your lip trembling as your tears begin to spill off your cheek and into your child’s swaddling blanket.

Feeling Spencer’s head dip down onto your shoulder, you hear him press a light kiss to his forehead, a snicker of happiness emanating from his lips before he asks, “Any name come to mind?”

“Yes,” you say, barely above a whisper, your breathing labored as you work to keep your flooding emotions at bay.

“Then lay it on me,” the nurse says, her pen poised about his birth certificate paperwork as you slowly pan your eyes over to Spencer.

“Jason,” you say as Spencer furrows his brow, his eyes springing to life with tears.

“Jason Matthew Reid,” you state, your eyes panning back down to your sleeping child as your husband preses his lips firmly against your temple.

“Perfect,” he chokes out.


End file.
